controlling the little things

(my day’s stash soon after returning to work… oh, the days. MOOO)

The other day at work, I opened my Medela bag to find that my water bottle bottle had spilled into it from my other bag (I keep one inside the other). My breast pump would not turn on. I took it apart and dried it off as best as I could, and it worked for a few hours. By the time I got home, though, it was headed downhill. I pitched a hissy fit. I cried and prayed that God would miraculously fix it. I cried and blamed Chris for making it worse by messing with it. Random thoughts kept running through my head. That pump was a gift from my coworkers. I take good care of my things, and I’ve never even taken the sticky screen protector off. This is how I feed my twins, and I can’t worry about issues like this when they’re already so small. It’s top of the line, and I know it works well for me. I’m one month away from making it a year of breastfeeding the sisters. I essentially worked myself into a quiet tantrum and fell asleep a mess.

My coworkers were supportive at work yesterday and helped me find time to nurse the girls when Chris brought them. My mom found a Pump In Style at a consignment sale. I used one with Ames, so I’m familiar with it. We also have the option of using the hospital-grade Symphony pumps at work, and all I have to do is get my hands on a parts-kit. I’m calling Medela’s customer service department as soon as they open today, to see if they offer repair services for my Freestyle.

And that’s it. Within a few days, several options became available. None of them are what I really want, which is for my pump fix itself and for things to go back to normal. But I will make do and carry on. It’s not the end of the world, right? So why does it feel like it, when things like this happen?

Maybe it’s some subconscious way of worrying about the larger things in life, but I tend to dwell on the details. I try to maintain some sense of control over my family and schedule by controlling the little things. I put a lot of emphasis on following rules and keeping structure in my life. My house has never been this out of order, because we’ve been at doctor’s appointments when I’m not at work. My grocery shopping has become a hodge-podge of quick survival trips, and it makes me anxious just thinking about what’s not in my fridge right now. Hopefully I’ll address that today, in addition to several other issues on my to-do list.

Sometimes, it takes an abnormal MRI or a broken breast pump or a dirty house to remind me that I’m not in control. It’s hard, but I’m doing my best to hold onto that and let go of the old.

10 thoughts on “controlling the little things”

I totally “got” this post, as yesterday I had a hissy fit when my car wouldn’t start in my driveway as planned, ruining (or so it seemed in my melodrama at the time) my plans for the afternoon. I justified it by saying I was 36 weeks pregnant with low blood sugar. But I knew in the end I was pretty much just having a two year old’s tantrum at an obstacle in my way. I had a little laugh at myself later, but sometimes wish I still didn’t have a two year old living inside me who comes out at times!

I totally “get” this too! I don’t know how many throw downs I have had with God about the things that aren’t working, that keep messing up no matter how hard I try, that are out of my hands.

The biggest challenge for me over the past 4 years has been that my husband was laid off and has never been able to make what he was making when we bought our house just 3 months before the lay off. We have been through financial struggles that have been so scary, and I have felt so angry because I kept thinking of how no matter how you play by the rules, things happen that just seem so incredibly unfair and sometimes things just seem to pile up to the point that I’ve just shut down. That really is when I’ve had to let go and say “fine, whatever”…it always gets better.

And, like you experienced, after the meltdown, we see there are options, it does start to feel okay, and for every meltdown we manage to make it through, we are that much stronger and more knowledgeable and stronger in our faith.

Oh, I generally always feel embarrassed (in an angry way) if someone sees me cry – I always try to be alone when I melt-down, but that can be hard, but it’s so necessary sometimes – definitely cathartic.